


Red Jamie: Laird of Thieves

by BookDragon2026



Category: Outlander (TV), Robin Hood - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27177149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookDragon2026/pseuds/BookDragon2026
Summary: By royal decree, James Fraser, also known as Red Jamie or the Dunbonnet, and all who shelter or aid him, are declared outlaws of the realm. Their properties forfeit and their lives shall be taken by any Englishman on sight.
Comments: 87
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my hoors and friends who encourage my crazy ideas and push me out of my comfort zone. I wouldn't be writing again if it wasn't for y'all. 
> 
> Welcome to the first non-academic thing I've written in over a decade. Robin Hood has been one of my favorite stories since I learned how to read and when I realized there wasn't a OL/RH crossover...I had to change that.

Chapter One 

_Brother. I hope this finds you safe. We have been informed that by Royal Decree, Lallybroch is being given over to a Sassenach family already on their way here from London. I will die before seeing a Sassenach Trollop living in our house, so Ian and I are going to his family until this gets sorted. I’ve sent letters to Da and Willie, but have heard no word. Stay safe. Love, Jen._

Jamie crumpled the letter in his fist and tried not to wake the others. It had taken him most of the night to retrieve his sister's letter from the cave, and he had arrived back at camp as the night started to fade. He knew he should be resting, but sleep would not come tonight. 

Now he needed to plan to disrupt a royal decree and protect his family home. Lallybroch would not be held by the English; not while he lived. 

-

“This is ridiculous.” Claire glared off into the trees. “You know we’re being banished.” 

“Yes my dear. And you know why.” Her uncle smirked. “ _You_ felt the need to verbally eviscerate that poor boy.” 

Claire scoffed, “He wasn’t a boy. He was a spoiled man who had never heard the word ‘no’ from a woman. He’s lucky I only verbally rejected him. He was entirely too close for comfort.” 

Lambert laughed. “Yes darling. I’m sure he is very grateful you left his bollocks intact. As is your Lady Mother, otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to plead your case to her Majesty.” 

“Yes, I’m sure it was very hard for Queen Eleanor to imagine no one wanted to marry Sir Randall,” Claire rolled her eyes. “But at least she listened and is letting us leave rather than forcing the issue.” 

Lambert nodded apprehensively, “I worry about what Richard or John will do, however. You know the Randall’s are favorites of theirs. Old money and all.” 

Claire laughed, an abrupt disruption to the quiet forest. “Richard only likes the Randalls because they fund his crusades. John only likes him because he never tells him ‘no’. I think my virtue is safe.” 

Lambert nodded again, but stayed silent. He was worried for his niece; she could certainly take care of herself - not being the meek type - but he knew men would always try to break her spirit. 

They rode a few more miles in companionable silence, their guards keeping an eye on the road and Claire still enjoying the scenery around them. London had been filthy and overcrowded. Whether this was a punishment or not, she finally felt like she could breathe. Scotland was cloudy and damp, but beautiful and otherworldly. She much preferred this place to the frivolous life at court. 

The captain of their guard interrupted her musings by raising his fist, signaling an all-stop. Claire exchanged a confused look with her uncle, but raised her hood all the same. She was already breaking all rules of propriety by wearing breeks instead of a riding dress; there was no reason to call attention to her curls as well. 

Two guards rode ahead to what appeared to be a wagon missing one wheel and a man sitting on the side of the road. One of the men dismounted and spoke with the stranger. Thankfully it must have been a simple fix, because he merely waved another guard down to them and they helped the man lift the wheel into place before they mounted their horses to report back. 

“The man sends his thanks for our aid, and warns that there are Highlanders throughout the woods. He said he heard rumours they were headed towards the coast, but does not know for sure.” One of the guards relayed as he took up his position again. 

The captain frowned. “We should be at the estate by this afternoon, and I would not care to stop if we can avoid it.” He looked to Lambert and Claire. “If these bandits are about, I doubt they would attack us in full daylight.” 

“I agree,” Lambert said. “I would much prefer to get to Lallybroch as soon as possible and avoid traveling another day.” He glanced at Claire. “And I would certainly prefer not to encounter violent Highlanders with my niece here.” 

Claire rolled her eyes. “Uncle, there is no reason to kill the horses trying to get there sooner. He said he thought the Highlanders were gone. Let’s just keep on at our pace and pay attention as we have been. I’m not worried.” 

At Claires word the men nodded begrudgingly and nudged their horses into movement. As they rode past the stranger, still sitting beside his wagon, Claire glanced over to make sure the man was alright. What she saw was a figure dressed in worn clothes with a dark plaid wrapped around his torso, covering his head like a hood. Under the hood she caught a glimpse of eyes as blue as the sky sporadically coming through the trees. She probably would have stopped, if only to see the blue again, but her uncle turned to ask her something and the stranger's face dropped to his feet again. Claire glanced back over her shoulder and watched the man climb up into his wagon, a strange feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. 

-

They traveled at an easy pace for several miles, still under the cover of the forest. Claire and Lambert watched the occasional deer and rabbit they could glimpse through the trees, trusting their guards to keep an eye on the road ahead. They could see where the forest met a field just ahead, the sun shining in. 

Suddenly the forest was loud with screams and the pounding of drums, startling the horses and causing several of them to throw their riders off. Claire’s horse reared beneath her and she struggled to hold on to her saddle. Hooded, kilted figures came pouring from the trees out of nowhere, still yelling as they pulled the guards to the ground and tossed fabric over the horses heads. 

A black-bearded man grabbed Claire’s arm with one hand while he yanked the reins from her hand with the other. He pulled her off her horse and to the side of the road before she could pull away, and there he forced her to the ground beside one of the fallen guards. Lambert ended up on the ground in front of her, even in the panic trying to draw eyes away from his niece. 

Claire looked around, astonished. The Highlanders had cleared the men from their horses, taken the weapons from the guards, and had everyone on the ground in a matter of minutes. Several of the guards were still on the ground where they had fallen from their horses, and the captain had a long gash down his arm from a bandit's blade. Thankfully the horses had calmed down once the noise had stopped, and were settled enough to be hobbled together closer to the treeline. She scooted closer to her uncle, “Are you alright?” She whispered. 

Lambert glared over his shoulder at her, “Yes, now hush so they don’t look at you twice. You look nothing like a man in those blasted breeks.” 

Claire reached up and pulled her hood further over her face and tried to burrow behind Lambert's back. She watched as three of the bandits dug through their saddle bags. They filled packs they had attached to their belts with any food they could fit, and filled bags they carried with trinkets or tools they thought they needed. Claire smothered a groan when they reached her saddle bags, knowing they would find her clothes and jewelry box. A dark haired man pulled out a long blue dress and yelled to one of his friends as he turned to look over the group of captives. Lambert sighed and tried to stand, but ‘Black Beard’ was already there pressing on his shoulder with a glare. 

‘Dark hair’ rushed over and pulled the hood from Claire's curls. “Well hello, Lass! What’re ye doin’ in our forest, eh?” 

Claire pulled away from his hands, “Keep your hands off of me. We are trying to get to our estate, not that it is any business of yours.” 

‘Dark Hair’ just smirked, “Ye’re in our forest, lassie. And ye’re a mess of Sassenachs who dinna belong this way. That makes it our business.” He grabbed Claire’s arm and pulled her away from the other men. “The question is, what do we do with ye?” 

“Angus, leave the woman be.” 

‘Dark Hair’, apparently named Angus, groaned as he looked over his shoulder. “I wasna going tae do anything! Just scare her a bit.” 

Claire looked to see a dark, hooded figure step out of the trees from the way they came. The man seemed huge beside the others, and her head barely came to his shoulders. He looked over the entire group and waved Angus away from her. “I don’t think the lass will out-run us, do ye?”

Angus just grunted, but walked back to the horses.

The man bowed and then rose to his full height before her, tossing his hood back. “Yer pardon, Mistress. I was unable to warn them that there was a lass among the party.” His eyes were dark now, but still recognizable as the blue eyes she had only glimpsed in passing. With his hood back she could see his high cheekbones, strong chin, and red hair almost as curly as her own. 

Claire gasped. “You were the stranger on the road! We stopped to help you and this is how you intend on repaying us?” 

The man gave her a small smile. “Well, lass, what else would ye expect from poor, hungry men, banished from our own lands and homes? We have to do something to feed ourselves.” He reached out to touch one of her curls, pulling on it so it bounced back up towards her face. 

Claire recoiled at his familiarity. “Perhaps you should have behaved better to begin with, rather than get yourselves sent away.” She glared at him, daring him to try something. 

He merely smirked again, glancing back toward his men, who had finished going through saddle bags and were checking the rest of her party for valuables. “Alas, no good behavior would have saved us from the English. So we must do what we can. Now, I will allow ye to go on yer way. I will even allow ye to keep your horses. But first, Mistress, I must check to see if ye’re carrying anything that might be of value to me or my men.” 

Claire took a step back, her eyes darkening with fury rather than the fear he probably expected. Unfortunately, her captor had anticipated her movement and was already reaching for her arm to pull her back. “Either I do it, or I’ll call back Angus. I can promise he will not be as respectful of yer Ladyship.” 

Not knowing what else to do, Claire set her jaw, stood still, and allowed the man to pull her cloak off her shoulders to check for a purse at her waist. He smirked and glanced at her face, “Canna say I’ve ever seen a lass wearing breeks before. It makes searching ye much easier.” He bent a knee, his head level with her hips. “Is this what they wear in London now?” 

Claire glared down at his red curls, wanting nothing more than to bring her knee up to his nose. “I highly doubt you’ve gotten close enough to a woman to search her. Your lifestyle likely drives them all off.” 

He peeked up and gave her a cocky smile. “Jealous are ye? Nah, Sassenach, nothing to worry about. I don’t go searching just any lass these days.” He slid his hand slowly down the outside of her leg toward her boot. 

“Aha! What is this?” He asked, pulling a small dagger out of her boot. 

“It is my father’s dagger,” Claire spit through her teeth, refusing to look down at him. “He is away fighting with the crusaders and gave it to me for protection.” 

He checked her other boot before sliding his hand up her other leg, still holding the dagger. He stood before her once again, trying not to meet her eyes. “And what of this?” He reached his hand towards her throat, finding a blue jewel in a gold setting. He fingered it gently, the tips of his fingers brushing against her collarbone. 

“That is my mother’s. She is a lady to Queen Eleanor.” She tried to ignore the tingles running across her skin at his touch. She flinched at the snap of the chain breaking, and finally met his eyes. His eyes were back to the sky blue she had first seen, but they were hooded as if to hide what he was thinking from her. 

He broke her gaze, slid her dagger and necklace into the pouch at his waist, and took her arm again. Leading her back to her uncle, he called to his men. “I do not think we need anything else from these travelers. They have fed us for the night, given us new weapons to use, and have made a sizable contribution to our whisky allowance. Time for them to be on their way home.” He winked down at Claire as if they had just willingly handed over all of their worldly goods for some charitable fund. 

The black bearded one grabbed his shoulder and started speaking in a language Claire couldn’t place, arguing back and forth for a moment.. Claire stood still with her arm in the leader's grasp, but she was soon being led back to her horse. She heard rather than saw her Uncle and guards being pulled up and pushed towards their own horses at the edge of the trees. 

Claire pushed at his hand where it held her arm. “You’re letting us go?” 

He smiled sweetly, like they had just met at a ball in London and were the best of friends. She wanted to slap him. 

“Of course, lass. Did ye think we were going to molest ye and kill ye all in our sacred forest?” His eyes darkened a bit and he pulled her closer to his chest, seemingly against his own will. 

Claire swallowed, but was determined not to let him get the better of her. “I did assume so, yes. I certainly expected you to steal our horses and leave us to walk to our estate.” 

The man shrugged, helping her to mount her horse. “We have no need for horses, and no one around here would buy such pretty ones to work their fields.” He pulled her necklace out of his pouch, “This, however, will keep us in drink for a week at least.” 

“Give that back! I told you it was my mother's necklace, I will not let you sell it for cheap ale!” She reached for it, her hand landing on his shoulder instead.

He laughed. “Ach! No, lass. Only the _finest_ whisky will be purchased with yer mother's pretty trinket.” He clasped her hand in his, pressing his lips to her knuckles. “Until we meet again, Sassenach. Hopefully you’ll like me better then.” 

Claire yanked her hand out of his and kicked at her horse. “Bloody, self-assured Scot. If we meet again you will not be the one in charge. I’ll have you locked up until you return our property.” She pulled the reins of her horse to join her uncle. “So you had best hope we do not meet again.” 

-

Jamie watched her curls bouncing over her shoulders as she rode away. _We’ll meet again, Sassenach. Just you wait._

“Jamie! I thought the plan was tae send them back tae London. Why are ye letting them go on tae Lallybroch?” Murtagh yelled at him from the trees. “Ye said ye had yer reasons. Ye best be telling me now.”

Jamie just shook his head, “ _A Ghoistidh,_ my reasons are my own. We got what we wanted. We’ll sell the things we found in their bags and take care of the tenants. That was always the plan.” _But now I’ll know where she is,_ He thought. _Now I’ll be able to find her again._

He stood in the shadows at the edge of the trees, watching the woman and her party ride toward his ancestral home. She might hate him now, but perhaps he could change that. If her parents were who he suspected, perhaps she could even help him take care of his tenants. 

Perhaps everything could change now. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The Dunbonnet you say?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so so much for your comments, love, and encouragement for my first fic. I honestly didn't know what to expect, so all of you exceeded any dreams I could have dreamed. <3 
> 
> Special thanks to my betas. Your excitement over this story (and your comma/word help) make writing it fun. 
> 
> <3

Chapter Two

Claire, Uncle Lambert, and their party rode out of the forest and through the fields for a few miles before she could finally convince her uncle and the Captain to let them stop. She lined up the men and looked them over, checking for injuries and glaring at them until they did as she demanded. She was surprised to find only welts, minor cuts, and sore limbs from falling off horses. One man had bloody knuckles from striking one of their attackers, but other than the long cut on the Captain’s arm, the wounds were small compared to what she was expecting. Honestly, the men's wounded pride was the worst pain they suffered. 

They continued on their way and soon came to the top of a hill, the road stretching before them, leading to a large stone building. Three stories built of grey stone, covered in a slate roof with several chimneys pushing up towards the blue sky. There were whitewashed buildings around it and what appeared to be a barn across a small courtyard from the main house. Behind the house Claire saw a tall stone tower dotted with arrow holes, and small houses beyond that. 

They rode under the archway and into the courtyard. A trio of dogs appeared, followed by a young man who reached up to take Claire’s reins. She handed them over with a smile, which he pointedly ignored. “Thank you,” she said quietly as she dismounted, “It was a long ride; please wipe him down. I’ll be in shortly to check on him, if that's alright.” 

The boy’s head snapped up at her words and he nodded slowly. “Yes, Mistress. I’ll take care of him; you don’t need to come check my work.” 

Claire smiled again, “Oh, I’m sure you will take good care of him, I just would like to check on him for my own peace of mind.” Now that she could see his face she realized how young he looked, and that he was probably nervous around the new inhabitants of his home, “What is your name?” 

“Rabbie, Mistress.” 

“Pleased to meet you, Rabbie. I’m Claire. Will you let me know if you need anything? For the horses, I mean. I have some things in my bag for swelling and such.” 

Rabbie nodded and led her horse off to the stable as Lambert came over to find what was keeping her. 

“Making friends with the staff again, my dear?”

Claire scoffed. “They need to know we’re not evil people who’ve come to take over their home. I’d rather befriend them than be worried about them killing us in our sleep,” she teased as she took his arm. 

Lambert chuckled, “You’re right, my Claire, obviously. I hope you never change.” 

Climbing the short steps and entering through the front door, they found themselves in a hallway with a high ceiling and thick rugs on the floor. The Captain disappeared down the hall as Lambert helped Claire out of her cloak. Claire and her uncle started down the hallway after him when the Captain emerged from a room with a woman. 

When they reached them, the Captain made the introductions and the woman curtsied in greeting. “I am Ms. Crook. I run this house for the Laird’s family and have been instructed to take care of ye in their absence.” 

“We were told the Laird would be here?” Lambert asked, glancing at the Captain for confirmation. 

“Oh no, sir. The Laird hasna been here for months now. ‘Tis his sister and her family who live here and keep the land and tenants cared for. They left when they received the letter claiming the house for ye.” 

Claire tried hard to keep her jaw from dropping. “Claimed? I thought we were just staying here temporarily, as guests.” She glared at her uncle. “You said nothing about forcing a family out of their home!” 

“Claire, I was given a different impression as well. Why don’t you allow me to discuss this with the Captain while you get settled. Surely Ms. Crook would be willing to take you to your room?” He nodded to the woman and took a step back from Claire, “we will go find the study and try to make some sense of this. I will find you soon.” And with that the men stalked off, already talking under their breath as they opened and closed doors. 

Claire sighed and turned back to Ms. Crook to find the lady studying her. “I’m so very sorry, I know the English seem to delight in taking things from the Scots, but I never meant to take part in it.” 

Ms. Crook just shrugged, still watching Claire, “I willna tell ye that we welcomed the letter, but we havna had good luck since the Laird left, so it didna surprise us o’er much. Come wi’ me. We’ll find ye a room that ye can stay in.” 

They walked a few paces, but Claire couldn’t just choose a room in someone else’s home without knowing some things. “Please tell me about the family. Are they alright? Where did they go?” 

Ms. Crook gave her an apprehensive look, but answered, “Mistress Murray and her family went tae her husband’s people, a few days’ ride from here. They are good people and sent a messenger to tell us they are safe. The bairns were heartsick at leaving, but Mistress Murray insisted.” 

Claire sighed, “I feel awful. Can we send them anything? Would they come back if we asked? I have no desire to take their home.”

“I dinna ken, Mistress. We will just haveta see,” Ms. Crook turned to study Claire again. “Ye’re not quite like I was expecting, if ye dinna mind my saying so.” 

Claire smiled. “I appreciate that, actually. I hope we can help one another.” 

Ms. Crook nodded and they climbed the staircase in silence. 

Claire walked down the hallway, stopping when she noticed blank, discolored sections on the walls. “Are there normally portraits here?” She asked. 

“Yes, Mistress. Mistress Murray took them down as they were packing. Said she...wanted them to be safe. They’re packed up in the attic, I believe.” Ms. Crook looked at her out of the corner of her eye, possibly trying to gauge her reaction. 

Claire just sighed, “I cannot say I blame her, considering how they were forced to leave. I feel awful for the trouble.” 

Ms. Crook waved her arm and led the way down the hall. “No point fretting now, Mistress. It’s done. If ye can help to fix it, that will do. Come, I think ye will like this room. 

She swung open a door at the end, stepping aside to allow Claire to go inside first. It was a large bedroom and the walls covered in a dark blue and cream wallpaper. The furniture and mantlepiece was cut from the same dark wood and was decorated with carved flowers, leaves, and scrollwork. Blue and white vases sat on the mantle, waiting to be used, and there was both a desk and a dressing table tucked into different corners. 

“This is one of the nicer rooms, so it hasna been overrun by the bairns yet.”

Claire walked around the room, running her hand over the desk and feeling the tartan laid on the bed. “It’s beautiful, Ms. Crook. Thank you.” 

Ms. Crook nodded, “I’ll just go fetch Rabbie and have him bring ye yer things. We’ll fetch ye some water as well; I’m sure ye’ll want to wash before supper.” 

Claire looked up to thank her, but the woman was already out the door. She wandered over to the large window and opened it to see what type of view she had. She could see a garden waiting to be harvested, fields beyond that, and the forest just on the other side. A rose bush looked to be making its way up to her, and she could smell the blooms’ fragrance in the air. She leaned on the wide windowsill, closing her eyes and enjoying the sounds of the new place. 

As much as she hated the circumstances that led them here, and the ones that they’d inflicted on the Murrays, she felt like this place could be home - certainly more home than the royal palace in London. 

-

The next morning Claire went down to the stable, wearing what Lambert viewed as a ‘proper riding habit’ instead of her breeks. She found Rabbie feeding the goats and waited where he could see her. 

Finally, he noticed her and stepped away from the pen. “Can I help you, Mistress?” 

Claire nodded. “Yes, actually. I wanted to go and visit some of the tenants that live close. I overheard Ms. Crook telling the kitchen girl to take food home to her family and I want to make sure everyone has enough to eat. Would you mind coming with me to tell me about them?” 

The surprise showing on his face almost made her laugh, but she thankfully managed to control it. “If you don’t mind, that is. I know you probably have other chores.” 

Rabbie nodded, “I do, but nothing that can’t wait a bit. It would do your horse good to get out and stretch as well. He has been fighting me all morning.” 

Claire couldn’t suppress her smile. “Oh good! My uncle is reviewing the estates books and I do not want to be stuck inside all day.” She turned to gather her horse's lead and set about preparing him for the ride. 

Once they were checked and saddled, Claire and Rabbie set off through the gate and along the field to where she could see some small homes scattered in front of the forest. Rabbie was quiet at first, but answered her questions politely. She learned that the families close by had lived there for generations. They helped take care of the harvest and planting in exchange for the land around their homes to do with as they pleased. Rabbie also told her that until now, there had been an open door at the big house. If any of their tenants were hungry, they had been welcome to come get food from Mistress Murray. 

Despite the doubting look Rabbie tried to hide, Claire informed him that the practice would remain. She did not want anyone to go hungry on her account. 

They met a few tenants, mostly people already outside in their gardens. Everyone treated Claire politely, but with suspicion in their words and on their faces. 

After riding for close to an hour, they arrived at the last house. Rabbie swung down from his horse and walked into the home with no hesitation or word to Claire. He returned a moment later leading a woman by the arm, still wiping her hands on her apron. 

“Mistress Claire, this is my mother, Mary. 

Claire dismounted quickly, holding onto the reins tightly. “Good morning, Mary. It is good to meet you.” 

Mary shot a look at her son, but curtsied to Claire. “Mistress. Welcome to Lallybroch. Forgive me, I wasna expecting you. My sister is ill inside or I would ask ye in.” 

“Ill? Is she alright?” Claire asked, concerned. 

“Ach, aye. Just women’s trouble. She’ll be alright tomorrow.” Mary answered. 

Claire nodded, “I know some herbs that could help her. I can bring some back later, if you do not mind?” 

Mary looked over at Rabbie who just shrugged at her. “Well, I guess if you think it could help? She always ends up sick here, and asks for help with her bairns.” 

Claire chuckled, “well I don’t know if I can help with the children, but I might be able to help with the pain and sickness. I’ll come back before supper with Rabbie.” 

Mary nodded and curtisied again while Claire got back on her horse. She watched as Rabbie kissed his mother’s cheek, and hurried to join her. 

They rode back to the main house in relative silence due to Claire making a mental list of all the things she wanted to take back. “Rabbie, do your mother or aunt need food as well? Is there anything else they could use? 

Rabbie shrugged. “I’m usually able tae bring some back tae them, but since the Mistress left I havena been able tae get home. Mistress asked me tae make sure Mistress Crook didna need anything.” 

Claire sighed. “She wanted you to make sure we didn’t send Ms. Crook away didn’t she?”

“We’ve just heard stories, ye ken. Whole families and staff being turned out because the sassenachs wanted their own people tae take over the estate. We didna ken what tae expect.” 

Claire nodded. “I know, Rabbie. It’s alright. I just hate that all of this happened because of my actions. We’ll make sure to include some food in the basket for your mother.” 

-

Later that day Claire had gathered everything to take to Rabbie’s mother, but she could not find Rabbie. She wanted to get the food and herbs to Mary before supper, but had a feeling her uncle would lock her in her room if she rode out by herself. She spied Rabbie’s cloak hanging beside the barn door, and grabbed it along with her horse’s bridle.

She used the hay bale to mount her horse bareback, and pulled Rabbie’s hood up over her curls. _I’ll just ride out quickly, drop the basket, and return home. No one will know if I hurry._

She made it out of the courtyard without being spotted, and nudged her horse into a gallop. She arrived at Mary’s without being stopped - or dropping the basket - and jumped down. 

“Mistress Beauchamp?” 

Claire jumped a bit as she turned to see Mary walking from the trees. “Oh! Hello Mary. I brought some food and herbs for your sister. If you brew the herbs into a tea they should settle her a bit and help with the pain,” her words rushed out of her, the need to be helpful strong. 

Mary gave her a small smile and set down the basket Claire now saw on her arm. “Thank ye Mistress. That is verra kind of ye. Rabbie said ye seemed different than we were expecting; it’s nice tae see he is right.” 

“He seems to be a fine young man. You did a good job with him.” She glanced down at the basket Mary dropped, “Could I help you inside, or would you like to put these things in your basket?” 

Mary reached down to gather her own basket quickly and pulled a cloth to cover everything. “Oh no, thank ye. Can I bring the basket up to the house tomorrow? I can manage them both, I’m sure.” 

Claire nodded to hide her surprise as she handed over the basket. “Yes, of course. Please let me know if you need anything. And if Rabbie didn’t tell you, you may come up to the house if you ever need food. I’m not changing Mistress Murray’s routine of having extra for those who need it.” 

“This should keep us for a day or so, but I’ll make sure the others know.” Mary turned towards her home, but stopped to smile at Claire, the first real smile Claire had received from any of the tenants. “Thank ye, Mistress. Truly.” 

Claire just smiled and climbed on the fence to remount. She turned her horse toward home, but movement just inside the tree line caught her eye. _Red?_ When she searched for it she saw nothing, and Mary had gone inside before she could ask her. Claire looked over her shoulder at the forest as she rode home, but never saw what had caught her eye. 

-

Claire made it back to the barn, put her horse back in his stall with a blanket and oats, and even made it inside without being detected. 

_Either the guards need to be retrained or I am better at sneaking around than I thought._ She said to herself as she walked quietly down the main hallway towards the staircase. She saw the study door was ajar so she slowed down to avoid drawing attention to herself, but stopped completely when she heard her uncle and the captain talking. 

“The Dunbonnet you say?” her uncle asked. She could almost picture him rubbing his chin in contemplation. 

Her hand came up to her neck where her mother’s necklace used to rest. _Bloody Scot,_ she thought, her skin flushing with anger as she remembered his cocky attitude as he searched her. 

“Yes sir. That is what the people around here call him anyways. Rumors say his band have been robbing travelers for months now. No one has been able to find where they make camp, discern any types of patterns, or capture them.” The Captain replied. “I’m leery of leaving you and the Lady Beauchamp here unprotected.” 

Lambert sighed. “I would appreciate you staying, at least until I am able to arrange a meeting with the authorities in these parts, but I understand if you need to return to London.” 

“We were ordered to stay with you until I felt it was safe to leave. These people seem safe enough, but those bandits were too well organized and prepared for us.” The Captain’s chair creaked with movement, causing Claire to jump and scurry to the other side of the door before she was caught. “I will send a messenger to the fort for replacements before we leave. Once they have arrived and I have taken their measure, my men and I will return to London.” 

Afraid she would be caught eavesdropping, Claire hurried up the stairs before either man could emerge from the study. 

_The Dunbonnet. A good name for a criminal. He should hope we do not meet again._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not much of a lady are you? Wandering about the land without an escort?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your comments, your kudos, and for your patience. Life has been making it difficult to get my head into writing, but rest assured this combination lives in my brain almost constantly and its not going to be abandoned...just slow to the finish. 
> 
> As always, my eternal thanks to my beloved betas and my hoors. This story wouldn't exist without you.

Chapter 3

After fitful dreams of flashes of sky and stormy blue through endless green trees, and the sound of cries - pain or pleasure, she couldn’t tell - Claire finally got out of bed. She dressed in a simple, dark-colored dress and made her way downstairs hoping someone else was awake and had made tea. 

Lambert was seated at the dining room table, a book laid beside his plate. He smiled as she walked into the room, rising to pull out her chair for her. “Good morning, my dear. Mrs. Crook laid out breakfast already, would you like anything?” 

“Tea please.” Claire said as she looked toward the side table where breakfast was spread out. “Goodness, she made enough food for an army.” 

Lambert chuckled, “Yes, I tried to stop her, but she said this was normal. Once we eat our fill she’ll package it up into parcels and have it taken about to the men working the fields.” He brought her a cup of tea and a plate of various things. “You need to eat something; I’m sure you have vast plans to escape the house and not come home until dinner.” 

Claire shrugged. “Perhaps. Rabbie took me out to some of the cottages, but I’d like to walk a bit and see what plants I can find. Do you think Mrs. Crook has an herb garden?” Her Uncle shrugged. “Well I’ll ask her. What are you reading?” 

Lambert put down his bannock and picked up the book excitedly. He revealed that the large, worn, leather-bound book was actually the journal of a past resident of Lallybroch, a Fraser. He had documented the history of the family, surrounding land, and the clans that resided on their borders. Lambert was thrilled to have such a good account regarding their new home, and was most pleased that it was written by a Scot who had actually grown up on the estate and not some stuffy englishman from London. 

Claire smiled to herself as she drank her tea. Her beloved Lambert was in his heart a historian, which made it hard for him to fit in with the court of soldiers and foppish courtiers. He had been the one to teach her to read, to discern the origins of ancient weapons, and to care for ancient texts. Knowing how she hated life at court, her parents had encouraged all of it. Her father made sure she also knew how to use the weapons Lambert showed her, and her mother made sure she knew how to tell if plants were harmful or hurtful. She had certainly had an unusual upbringing, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Lambert, still talking about the journal, was stopped when the Captain of their guard came in wanting to speak to him. Claire half listened as she enjoyed her bannock and studied a hand drawn map that had fallen out of the journal. It was extremely detailed for as simple as it was, and labeled by a neat hand. However, almost all the markings were written in Gaelic or a shorthand and Claire couldn’t make them out. 

In the middle of wondering if Mrs. Crook would translate bits of the map for her, she realized the men were looking at her, waiting for the answer to a question she hadn’t heard. 

“I’m so sorry, what?” She asked, reaching for her tea cup. 

“The Captain wanted to know if you’d agree to an escort when you leave the house.” Lambert said, a twinkle showing from under his cocked eyebrow. 

Claire nearly spit out her tea. “Absolutely not.” She raised her hand to stop the Captain's sputtering protest, “I am not going to leave the estate, I probably won’t even leave sight of the house. If your men are remotely competent they’ll be able to keep an eye on me from the walls.” 

The Captain started to protest but stopped when Claire raised her hand. “I promise I’ll be fine.” She took one last drink of her tea and stood up from the table, “I will see the both of you later. Captain, help yourself to some breakfast if you haven’t eaten.”

Before either man could say anything, Claire walked out of the room. 

***

After Claire had retrieved her cloak from her room, she made her way down to the kitchen to see if Ms. Crook had a basket she could borrow, choosing to be optimistic about what herbs and plants she could find. 

She walked into the kitchen to find Mrs. Crook directing the portioning of the breakfast leftovers while simultaneously chopping various vegetables into a large pot. Before she could say anything, Mrs. Crook saw her: 

“Mistress Claire? The maid told me ye’re folding yer blankets? And putting yer clothes away? Ye ken tis why she is here, yes?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of making my bed.” 

Mrs. Crook scoffed. “Aye, I ken you probably are. But I give that girl a place to sleep, three meals a day, and wages to take home once a week to do it fer ye. So ye best stop.” She eyed Claire, taking in the cloak wrapped around her shoulders. “Where are ye goin this early?” 

“I wanted to go explore on my own a bit. My mother taught me a bit about plants and herbs, and I was hoping to see if I could find anything I was familiar with. Do you have an herb garden?” 

Ms. Crook nodded, “Aye,’tis what we call it anyways. Not much in it now but a few sprigs of rosemary and a good bit of thistle, I’m sure. It was dear to Mistress Murray’s mother but no one else could ever get a thing to grow. ’Tis just a throw away from the door if ye’re curious,” she said, nodding towards the back door. 

Claire smiled, the wheels already turning about herbs and what to do to help the existing soil along. “Oh, thank you. I’ll go look it over while I’m out. Do you have a basket I could borrow? Just in case I find anything.”

Mrs. Crook put down her knife and wiped her hands on her apron as she walked over to the pantry. She was in and out quickly with a small basket in her hands. “Will this do? I canna imagine ye’ll find much.”

“Yes this is perfect, I can always go back out tomorrow. Thank you, Mrs. Crook, I appreciate it.”

“Just be careful. Dinna go wandering aboot in the trees alone. Go get Rabbie from the stables if ye mean to.” Mrs. Crook wrapped up a few bannocks and a portion of cheese in a cloth and stuck in Claire’s basket. “Let me ken what ye think of Mistress Fraser’s garden. If ye think ye can save it, we can send off fer seeds and such.”

Mrs. Crook returned to her work without another word and no acknowledgement of Claire’s quiet word of thanks. 

Claire stepped through the door and out into the sunshine 

***

Claire decided to wander away from the house before getting too enthralled with the garden. She knew that once she got there she’d likely end up staying there until dark, pulling weeds and testing soil. 

She headed away from the main house and the cottages, wanting to see what she could find along the tree line. She crouched at the base of one of the tallest trees she’d ever seen to study some mushrooms. 

“I wouldna pick those if I were you.”

Claire startled, turning around quickly only to lose her balance and end up sitting next to the very mushrooms she had been reaching for. She glared at the small, redheaded woman bending over laughing. 

The woman caught her glare and giggled one last time. “I’m so verra sorry. I didna mean to scare you. Those are poisonous mushrooms though, I didna want you to accidently poison your entire household.” She smiled, tossing her long, straight red hair back over her shoulders. 

“Yes thank you, I know they’re poisonous, I was just going to check that before I picked them. It’s the raw caps that are poison, but dried and ground they can stop bleeding if applied topically.” 

“Well isn’t that interesting. I wouldnae thought of that.” The woman came over to help Claire up. “I am Geillis Duncan, from just down the road.” 

Up on her feet again, Claire brushed at her skirts and smiled at the woman, “Oh good! I’ve been wondering who lived close. I’m…” 

“I know who ye are, Claire. I mean, ‘Lady Beauchamp’.” 

Claire rolled her eyes, “Just Claire, please.” 

Geillis smirked, “Not much of a lady are you? Wandering about the land without an escort?”

Claire just shrugged, “No, not at all usually. To the bane of the court ladies in London.” 

“You mean the grand court ladies don’t want to know about poisonous mushrooms? Perhaps they’d be more interested in flowers to induce bleeding.” 

Claire laughed, “Unfortunately, you’re probably right. But they'd never dare actually ask for it. They’d send their maids to get it and hope that for once their maids don’t tell each other everything.” 

Geillis laughed again, “Oh, aye. We’re going to be friends, Claire Beauchamp. Which is good, because I’ve been sorely needing a girl friend who isn’t mooning after the Fox.” She slipped her arm through Claires and led her away from the tree. “Now, what are you hunting for? Just mushrooms?” 

“Oh no, I was hoping to find some herbs or plants that don’t grow in Mrs. Crook’s garden. Who is the Fox? I don’t know anyone called that?” 

“Ach, he’s the leader of the rogue band of Highlanders running about. Tall, redheaded, massive in more ways than one I’ve been told.” Geillis shrugged and pointed at a plot of plants. “I’ve known him too long to think about _that_. That is comfrey, good for bruises or swelling.” 

Claire groaned. “You mean the Dunbonnet. He and his band accosted us on the way here. If I ever see him again I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.” 

“Ah, so you met our Red Jamie.” Geillis winked at Claire, a smirk on her face. “I’ve always just called him the Young Fox, considering I’ve kent him since he was a baby. I grew up around here and would play with his sister. Kenning him as I do, your mind isna what he’ll want a piece of, although he’ll like that you can hold your own. His sister and I made sure he kent what to do with strong women, and not to settle for anything less,” she said, a touch proudly. 

“Well, if you see him please let him know I still intend to repay him for robbing me. Whether or not he is your friend.” 

Geillis chuckled, “I’ll do that. ’Course, he tends to avoid home now that he is officially an outlaw. He brings food to his tenants sometimes, money if taxes are due. But he doesna stay in the area long, and certainly doesna stay for a chat.” She eyed Claire again before reaching down to pick a bit of wild lavender to tuck into her basket. “He is only trying to help his people, Claire, the only way he kens how.” 

Claire waved her hand, “I don’t care. He is an outlaw, he stole things dear to me, and I intend to make him pay for that.” She reached for Geillis’ arm, “Please, tell me about yourself instead. I also need a girl friend, especially if you’re more interested in these herbs and plants than dancing or dresses.” 

Geillis nodded, smiling back at her. “Friends. No more talk of the Fox, promise. Just when you do see him, don’t hurt him too hard, aye?” 

Claire smiled back, “Yes, I promise. Only mild flesh wounds, and I promise to leave him some things to bandage them.” Claire nodded at the path ahead of them, “Anything here I should take back with me? I assume you know more about Scottish plants than I do.” 

Geillis giggled, “I should certainly hope so.” Geillis intertwined their arms again, “Now tell me what kinds of plants you’re hoping for, and I’ll see what I can find.”

***

Geillis showed Claire several medicinal plants growing wild, with uses for everything from treating headaches to making perfumes, until they stopped around midday and shared Claire’s lunch. After their meal, Geillis came back to inspect Mistress Fraser’s garden, and helped Claire come up with a plan to nurture the soil and return it to its former glory. The small plot of land was almost completely overtaken by melancholy thistle and purple heather, which seemed to be doing battle with a persistent rosemary bush, a tiny patch of chamomile, and a larger patch of feverfew. 

Geillis had said goodbye and the sun had descended a good bit when Rabbie came running around the corner of the house. 

“Mistress Claire! There are Redcoats coming! Yer Uncle sent me to find ye and make sure ye ken!” 

“Christ,” Claire groaned and rubbed at the dirt caked on her hands and skirt. “Thank you Rabbie. I need to get inside and get cleaned up. Would you mind telling my Uncle?” 

“Yessum. He’ll be waiting for ye out front.” They parted ways, Rabbie running back around the house, and Claire heading in through the back door. 

Mrs. Crook handed her a cloth for her hands and - after taking in the state of her skirt - sent a maid to go ready a change of clothes upstairs. 

Claire sat down quickly and scrubbed at the dirt, smiling over her shoulder at Mrs. Crook who was trying to repin some curls that had escaped their knots. “It’s no use Mrs. Crook, they don’t ever do as they’re told.” 

“Ach, they’ll have to do. I’ve never seen such a mass of curls, Mistress. They’ll be the envy of the lasses around here.” 

Claire stood and handed her the cloth back. “The girls should be grateful for their straight hair. Mine is a fright unless it’s braided and even that’s a struggle.” 

Ms. Crook waved a hand. “Ye’ll do fine. Go get ye a clean dress and let me get the table set fer supper.” She said in dismissal. 

Claire hurried up the back stairs, glancing out a window to see a mass of red. _Bloody hell. I thought surely we’d have a few more days of peace._

She rushed into her room and tried to untie her boots as the maid helped her out of her soiled dress and apron. The girl worked fast, having found her a blue dress and a pair of slippers to match. Claire was out of the dirty one and into the clean one far quicker than if she had been on her own. 

Claire stopped in front of the mirror before leaving, wishing she had her mother’s necklace to match the blue. Against her will, thinking of her necklace made her think of the blue eyes of the very man who had stolen it. She scowled, banished him from her mind, and went downstairs. 

She made it downstairs and halfway to the front door when she realized there were male voices coming from the sitting room, one of them being her uncle, and the second... 

Her head cocked to one side, _I know that voice!_

Claire hurried to the sitting room, her skirts in hand. She slowed just before the doorway, and tried to walk in ‘like a lady’, only to ruin the whole image when she saw who was talking animatedly with her uncle. “Joe!”

The tall, dark-skinned man stopped almost mid-word and turned to see her. “Lady Claire! I wondered where you were!” 

Claire rushed into his arms, “oh I’ve missed you! Where have you been? Somewhere amazing I’m sure. How are you?” 

Joe laughed and held her at arms length. “Still talking faster than any other lady I’ve known. I’m well; I was down in France when I found your father and the King headed south. Your father said your mother, Lamb, and you were in London. I think I missed you and Lamb by a week at most.” He smirked at her and led her to the sofa to sit, “your mother told me an entertaining story about you and my escort.” 

Claire sat, still holding onto Joe’s arm. “Oh I’m so glad you’re here! Tell me about France.” Suddenly his last words caught up with her. “My mother told you a story? About me and your escort?” Her eyes darted to Lambert, who was staring down at the old book in his hands instead of her. “Who is your escort?” 

Joe smirked again, “Sir Frank Randall. He is...interesting.” 

Claire groaned and slumped against the back of the sofa. “Oh, Christ. Will I never be rid of him?” 

Lambert finally met her eyes, his own dancing with mirth under his bushy eyebrows. “He’s been banished from London. He behaved badly, and the Queen wanted to banish him from the court. Prince John intervened and gave him a posting to keep him happy.” He brought her the book he had been looking at. “I know that he bothers you, but I am confident that you can handle him. So, please take a breath, look at the books Joe has brought us, and pray Randall only means to stay tonight.”

Claire sighed, but nodded and took the offered book. She listened to Joe and Lambert catch up on mutual acquaintances, places Joe had seen in his travels, and interjected with questions of her own. 

She couldn’t tell how long they were sitting there enjoying each other’s company, but sooner than she was ready, the maid brought Sir Randall to the door. 

Lambert and Joe stood and greeted him as he came and bowed to Claire. “Hello, Lady Beauchamp.”

Claire stood and gave a small curtsy, “Sir Randall, welcome to Lallybroch.”

Frank Randall was not that much taller than Claire, and he had a sharp chin and well defined cheekbones. But his eyes were hard and lacked warmth today. 

Claire reclaimed her seat while the men went to get a drink. They all made polite conversation, but Claire was grateful when Mrs. Crook arrived to tell them supper was ready. Claire took Lambert’s arm and allowed herself to be led to the dining room. 

***

Feigning a headache to avoid staying downstairs, Claire finally managed to escape the sitting room and their overnight guest. She hoped she could manage to hide in her room until Frank left the next morning. 

Looking forward to the quiet comfort of her newly discovered safe haven, she hurried down the hallway and through the door. Closing the door behind her, she leaned back against it with her arm across her face, feeling like she could breath for the first time since she had returned from the garden with Geillis. 

“Hello, Sassenach.”

“Bloody Hell!” Claire jumped for the second time that day and reached for the closest thing she could reach, unfortunately only finding her basket from earlier in the day. “What are you doing here?” 

The Dunbonnet was leaning against the wall near the fireplace, the flames reflecting in his eyes as he watched her. “I needed to see ye.” 

Claire’s heart rate had returned to some semblance of normalcy, but she could hear the blood pounding in her ears as she moved from startled to angry. “You needed to see me? No, you do not get to see me. You get to grovel at my feet in hopes that I don’t go downstairs and alert the guards.” She reached behind her for the door knob, only for her unwelcome guest to suddenly be in front of her, whirling her away from the door and up against the bedpost. 

“I beg yer pardon, milady, but I dinna ken how to grovel, and I dinna intend to learn tonight. I mean ye no harm, I just have some questions and I think ye might be able to answer them.” He had been holding her upper arms so he could press her against the post, but released her and took a step back. “Now, we havena been properly introduced. “I am James Fraser, also known as the Dunbonnet or Red Jamie. Ye may call me Jamie if ye’d like.” He bowed like he had in the forest just the day before, his eyes dark but for the reflections of the flames. 

Claire crossed her arms defiantly, “Well then Mr. Fraser. What makes you think I would answer any questions you have?” 

He smirked, “because, Sassenach, I dinna think ye want me in yer room, but I also dinna think ye want to go back downstairs either. Am I right?” 

It took all of Claire’s strength not to groan. He was right, but she’d be damned before she admitted it. “Nonsense, I was merely exhausted from my day.” 

“Ah yes, exploring the land, picking weeds, and wee herbs. I ken all about yer day.”

“Geillis is spying for you then?” Claire glared at the man before her, hoping her face didn’t show how sad that thought made her. 

The Dunbonnet made a noise and waved his hand. “Nah lass, I dinna need Mistress Duncan to spy fer me. I have men enough fer that. Asides, Mistress Duncan likely wouldna tell me anything of use.” His eyes softened just a bit, “she fusses like my sister, but she’ll be a good friend to ye if ye stay. Dinna fash.” 

Against her will Claire sighed with relief, but caught on one word: “If? If I stay? Do you intend to run us out of Scotland? Or just out of Lallybroch?” 

“That remains to be seen. Now though, I need ye to help me.” He backed up further, setting his back firmly against the door. “I need ye to answer my questions.” 

Claire set her spine and her jaw. “You return my property and I’ll answer your questions.” 

She watched as the man before her seemed to harden, his face set in stone and his eyes dark as he stepped back towards her. “I have more important things to discuss than returning your property. I just need to ken who yer house guests are, woman! I need to ken why they’re here and if they will hurt my people.” He glared out the window before turning his gaze back to her. “My people have suffered enough at the hands of the English. I will run all of them out of Scotland if I have to.” 

Claire held her breath for a second, wondering if she was an idiot for not calling the guards when she had the chance. But despite the look on his face, she truly did not think the Highlander would hurt her. “All of us?” 

The Dunbonnet brought a hand up to the back of his neck. “That remains to be seen, Sassenach. Will ye answer my questions?”

Claire sighed. “Our guests are a troop of English soldiers who will stay overnight before heading north to a garrison they have. They are led by Frank Randall, who is insufferable and irritating, but harmless, I believe. I always heard that his brother is the one who caused problems at court.” She paused at the noise that came from her interrogator's throat, but continued when he remained silent. “With them is a family friend, Joe Abernathy, who is a healer from Persia. He met my uncle when one of their trips crossed paths and he came to stay with us a bit.” She leaned back against the post and studied the man before her, almost able to see the thoughts spinning in his head. “Anything else?” 

“Why are Randall and the english soldiers here?” 

Claire smiled a bit, bringing her hand up to cover her face. “That might be my fault actually. Frank recently asked for my hand in marriage and when I...rejected him, he responded poorly. Apparently so poorly that the Queen sent him away from London and likely the Prince gave him a commission to cover up the punishment.” She peeked over her hand at the Dunbonnet’s chuckle. “What?” 

He smirked at her, “Ye’re a bonnie lass, Sassenach, but I think ye must have done something worse than merely rejecting the man to warrant his exile.” 

Claire threw her hands in the air and sat on the bed. “Fine! I threatened his manhood with the same knife you stole from me. Are you happy now Mr. Fraser?” 

“Aye.” he said with a quiet laugh, but paused. “Do ye think he will hurt my people?” 

Claire shrugged. “Honestly, I think he is only here to bother me. Perhaps convince me to marry him? Like I said, I don’t believe Frank is the one to worry about. If his brother shows up you’ll want to pay more attention.”

The Dunbonnet made another noise and moved over to the window, opening it carefully and peeking out. “I believe I ken his brother; we’ll watch for him.” He turned back toward her. “Thank ye for yer help, Sassenach. Next time perhaps we’ll discuss the return of yer property.” 

“Next time?” Claire jumped back on her feet as he swung out the window and vanished into seemingly thin air. “Bloody Scot; come back here!” She leaned out the window and, not seeing him on the ground two stories down, turned to see him smirking at her from the roof. 

“Careful, Sassenach, I dinna think ye’d be able to do this even in those breeks of yerse. Best stay inside. Good night!” 

***

After making sure James Fraser was not going to come whirling back through her window, Claire undressed and got into bed. She tossed and turned for a bit, but eventually the exhaustion from the day caught up with her and she fell into a sound sleep. 

When she woke up the next day, the first thing she saw was her fathers knife, resting on the window sill. She jumped out of bed and rushed over, noticing the window was closed securely, but not locked as she’d left it the night before. The knife rested on top of a piece of paper, and Claire held it up to the sunlight streaming in: 

_Sassenach, here is yer wee blade. I worried that if ye had cause to use it once, ye might need to again. I’m keeping the necklace though._

_JAMMF_

***


End file.
